Fleck in his favorite place, on Christmas day, 2010.



I noticed one of Fleck's eyes weeping a little yesterday, and again this afternoon, so I took him to the vet.  He was overdue for his shots, anyway.  Naturally, Fleck just loves going to the vet.  He yowled in the car all the way there and all the way home.  He quieted down while we were there, and even flirted a little bit with the technician who cuddled him and gushed over his handsome tuxedo.  Then he pooped all over her when she tried to take his temperature.  Seriously, a buttload of poop came out of that cat.  I have never seen so much poop.

I have to put salve in his eyes for a couple of weeks, and on Valentine's Day he's going in to have his teeth cleaned.  Happy Valentine's Day, Fleck. 

That took up some of my practice time today.  I did get in some time on my baritone, and I did some laundry.  Dinner was sushi--eel roll.  Most of my day tomorrow will still be dairy-free, because I don't have any other food around here.  Wednesday is the big day!  And after Wednesday, I'll see what I feel like. 

I haven't decided what direction to take with the blog just yet.  I considered giving up something else for this month, but honestly, this month is going to be difficult enough.  I need to focus on getting through this one, and maybe I can do something healthy in March.  I have a whole list of things I could give up: caffeine, soda, refined sugar, HFCS (that would be cheating--I already avoid that one).  I could work on non-food habits like procrastination, or I could challenge myself to take more photos and post them.  I could just keep a themeless blog and see where it goes.  For now, that's what it's going to be--if I live through February, I'll worry about the future.

Day 31

I guess, since it's the 31st, I should sum up the No Dairy January project.  Hm.

Well, the hardest part of not eating dairy is just vigilance.  Around the house was easy enough, because I just didn't bring in any products with dairy in them.  If John were here, it would be harder.  He'd have all the usual stuff sitting around, and I'd have to 1) remember not to grab whatever I want when I'm hungry, and 2) constantly check labels to be sure there's no hidden whey or milk in anything.  As it is, I had to check labels on everything from cocoa powder to microwave popcorn to Lean Cuisines, all of which have dairy unless you check carefully for non-butter-flavored popcorn, etc.

Eating out is virtually impossible, depending on the restaurant.  I had only two slips this month: once when cream cheese appeared in a sushi roll, even when cream cheese wasn't listed on the menu description, and once when a Starbucks cider drink came with whipped cream--again, not listed on the menu.  Besides that, there were at least three dinners of Indian food, and I wouldn't be surprised if the food was cooked with butter or ghee.  In fact, I'd be surprised if they WEREN'T cooked with butter or ghee.  In restaurants, it's impossible to know if bread was made with milk or butter.  Vegetables might be drizzled with butter or sauteed in butter.  Pasta might be made with milk or cooked in butter.  There's hidden cream in many sauces, gravies and dressings.

Early in the month, I decided to go ahead and eat eggs.  It was just too difficult to leave them out. 

I found myself having cravings for protein, even though I was eating a ton of lentils, beans, edamame, chicken, eggs, peanut butter, spinach and high-protein versions of things I normally eat, like tortillas.  Come to think of it, I've been tired...yesterday I was thinking that I just lacked energy, and it reminded me of a few years ago when I was so anemic that I ended up in the hospital.  I know I'm not anywhere near that tired now.  I also know that I'm not having the same issues that I was then, because, well, back then I had a tumor that caused me to lose a lot of blood every month.  Whole different blog entry right there.  Anyway, I was trying to remember the last time I ate beef, and I can't remember.  I know I had a cheeseburger a month ago, before January started.  Could that be the last time I ate beef?

I've lost 5 pounds.  My daily headaches have completely disappeared.  In general, my sinuses seem clearer.  I still have times during most days when I feel a little stuffy, but it's not as bad as it was before this month.  I have a neti pot that I've never used--someone gave it to me years ago and I look at it suspiciously every now and then, but I haven't brought myself to use it yet.  I'm getting close.  I'll be sure to take some pics for fun.

I don't miss macaroni and cheese as much as I feared I would.  Strangely, I miss pizza more, and I wasn't a pizza person before.  I don't dislike pizza, but I'm a Chicago-style pizza fan, and there's nothing remotely like that down here.  Floppy pizza and crunchy pizza aren't that interesting to me.  When I think about mac and cheese, I think "yum!" but I don't crave it.  I crave bacon and eggs and peanut butter--protein.  And chocolate!  I never expected to miss chocolate this month.  Again, I love chocolate, but I don't crave it, usually.  I think maybe I just eat a lot of it without noticing, and now I miss it because I used to have it around so much.  I have a bag of chocolate-covered edamame in my cabinet.  THOSE won't be around a week from now, I bet.

I thought I would miss ice cream more, but sorbet and non-dairy ice creams seem to have taken its place.  They're not the same, but they are just fine most of the time.  Right now I have a half gallon of dark chocolate sorbetto from Kroger that is VERY yummy with peanut butter and frozen strawberries mixed in.

I'm about to eat lunch: leftover chicken curry from last night with rice, clementine, hardboiled egg.  Today I have to do laundry and get ready for the next four days: tomorrow's a long one of teaching and band practice, Wednesday working in the shop, Thursday up early to rehearse with my accompanist and teach, Friday teaching and driving home.  Practicing as much as I can between all those things.  Saturday: collapse.  Oh - I sent my application for a DMA program this morning.  Stress.

I have a couple of photos to put in this entry, but the photo uploader won't work.

Loss cat

This weekend has been one long exercise in procrastination.  Yesterday started out badly and degenerated; I just couldn't get myself upright, dressed and fed long enough to accomplish anything.  I did manage to pick up my horn and blow on it for an hour, but it was just fundamentals, the stuff I can do while watching bad movies on Netflix.  Today was the opposite: I had a bizarre dream that I was pregnant and my husband was, too--we went for our ultrasounds together.  When I woke up, I just laughed, and posted it on Facebook.  It was a great way to start the day...but I still managed to not really accomplish anything for several hours.

Even then, I had to promise someone that I would start on my essay immediately after lunch, and then I didn't eat lunch.  I did finally get to work on it, pulling together all the ideas and notes that I've been collecting and texting to myself all week long.  It started to go well, and I got cocky and walked to Starbucks, making the excuse that the caffeine would push me through the rest of the essay and everything else I needed to get done.  Instead, the extra shot made me squirrelly as hell, and I called people, emailed other people, petted my cats, cleaned up the kitchen, doodled and went out for chicken curry with a friend.  Now I'm looking at this almost-finished essay and decide to write a blog entry instead. 

I had five minutes of sheer panic today.  Before I went for the coffee, I opened the windows in the bedroom to let in the 70-degree breeze and let the cats sniff the outside.  I walked to Starbucks (it's about 100 yards from my front door), walked back, and went to see if the cats were enjoying the open windows.  Went to the bedroom, and there's not a cat in sight...but the windows are wide open, and one of them doesn't have a screen.  I must have left it off the last time I forgot my keys and had to climb in the window. 

I put the coffee down, closed the window to just a crack, and immediately ran outside.  Neither cat was anywhere to be seen.  Strange, because Fleck doesn't usually go far when he gets out.  I knew he'd be right around the house, and I hadn't even been gone 20 minutes.  Lily, on the other hand, has a history.  Last fall, she got out once when John accidentally left the door open.  She bolted from John when he saw her, and she was gone overnight.  The next day we searched for her all day before we had to go to band rehearsal.  When we got home that night, we spotted her, but she ran away from us and hid under the neighbor's boat.  We had to trick her out, and when I caught her she was feral, scratching and biting at my arms as I ran into the house with her.  Within ten minutes, she was acting as though it hadn't happened, but we don't dare let her out again.

So I was a little frantic this afternoon.  I ran down the length of our condo and back up the front, calling both of them.  When I got to my own back door again, I thought I should go inside and make sure Fleck was really gone; there's no sense in searching for him if he was just hanging out in the house, so I went back in.  Both cats were sitting by the cracked window in the bedroom, looking at me like I was crazy.  I suppose they could hear me calling them from outside that whole time.

Great story, but I have to get back to this damned essay, and I really should do some playing before bed.

Oh, I almost forgot: I was really careful not to get any dairy in my soy-extra-shot-grande-caramel-light-frappuccino today.  No whip!  I was at Starbucks again after dinner, and--very carefully--got caramel apple cider.  Forgot that it comes with whipped cream on it.  And I DRANK IT.  Sue me.

I am absolutely drained.  I woke up around 5:20 and figured I might as well get up, since my alarm was going off at 5:45.  I drove to school, taught for about six hours, practiced for a few more, then drove home.  Ate mostly clementines, a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast and a chicken sandwich for dinner.  I need to finish my grad school essay...might just close my eyes for a minute...I swear I'll get back up and do it.

Tomorrow.

Had breakfast with a friend this morning.  I had some eggs and buckwheat pancakes with blueberries, walnuts and real maple syrup.  He had exactly the same thing, but he also had a cheddar cheese grits cake.  I was jealous.  I usually don't covet my friends' food, but that grits cake smelled amazing.

I worked in the shop again today, mostly tagging mouthpieces to add to the inventory.  I had a bunch of things I needed to do tonight when I got home, but I ended up spending most of the evening on one thing, and I couldn't even finish it properly.  I was supposed to make a CD for my accompanist so she could study the material for my recital, but I couldn't find most of the pieces.  Our CD collection is a disaster, and a couple of the things on my recital are not recorded very often...or at all.  I guess I'll make an excuse to her and see if I can find the rest of them by next week.

Lunch was a turkey sandwich, dinner was leftover dal makhni. 

The kitty in that photo is Sallie Mae.  I found her under my car last year and took her to the shop with me, where the owner adopted her and named her after a piece we were playing in brass band called Salome.  She was only six pounds when I found her, her fur was scraggly, she was eaten up by bugs and parasites, and her ear was crumpled up with scar tissue.  She has only a little nub of a tail.  She's now a sleek, spoiled cat with only the deformed ear as a clue to her past.  She visits the shop every day, greeting customers and climbing in the instrument cases.  Sallie's big sister is a Great Dane named Nellie Belle, who rarely sits still long enough for me to get a decent picture.

Twenty-six!

John pointed out that Tuesday I get to eat pizza.  With cheese!  I don't know if that's what I want to eat Tuesday, but you can bet there will be butter and cheese involved.  I will see how I feel Tuesday night and Wednesday. 

Argh, Tuesday's going to be another long one.  I might not have time to eat dairy.  Yesterday, after waking up early and having a good day at school, I finished teaching a little late and ended up rushing to get to my band's board meeting at 6:00.  Didn't eat dinner till about 9:45, so I was cranky.  Could you tell?

Today was better.  I'm working in the shop, and we needed more anti-tarnish bags for the silver horns, so I got to spend the afternoon with my sewing machine.  Lunch was bean soup and Ezekiel bread with peanut butter; dinner was leftover shrimp karahi and leftover Thai rice noodles with veggies.  Time for some coconut milk ice cream.  Going to bed early; all the stress yesterday kept me awake for hours.  Night, y'all.

eh

It's been a stupid long day, and I'm in a stupid bad mood.  Not even BAD, just...bad.  I'm trying to work out my weekend schedule for the next five months, teach like crazy, save money, prepare to move even though I don't know what state I'm moving to, support a friend whose decisions I don't agree with, and write an entrance essay for a grad school application.  I ate a bunch of eggs today and not much else.

Twenty-four

It's starting to feel somewhat normal not to eat dairy.  Today I went grocery shopping and didn't really wish I could eat things that I knew I couldn't have.  I just got the things I came for, and left.  Didn't have to read the ingredient lists, because I knew what I was after.  It probably helps that I eat a lot of whole foods and not as much boxed stuff; I don't know.  It just seemed easier today.

I ran a few errands today, practiced, did laundry, and pushed emails back and forth for a couple of hours.  Seems like a good part of my day is spent emailing people.  I guess that's business.  I have a solid four days of working and running around starting tomorrow, so I had to get things like laundry under control.  Tomorrow I get to start my new tuba student; that should be fun.

I wasn't that hungry today, so I only ate a few clementines and some dates before dinner.  Dinner was eggs and toast with peanut butter.  I didn't even feel like eating my leftover dal makhni from last night, so that will be awesome for lunch tomorrow.

I'm not that interesting tonight, huh?  Maybe tomorrow.

Will power

Got up today, ate lunch (leftovers), lazed with the cats.  Got coffee and went to see The King's Speech with a friend, then went to Shahenshah for Indian food.  My friend ordered an appetizer that consisted of feta cheese and kalamata olives.  He was thinking that it would be a few pieces of cheese and some olives, but it was a whole bowl of cheese.  Like, a cereal bowl filled with feta, with about 15 olives on the top, and a pita to eat them with.  It was beautiful and sad.  I picked out a couple of the olives while my friend tried to convince me that the cheese doesn't count as dairy, since it's made from goat's milk. 

For dinner I ordered dal makhni--lentils sauteed with onion, garlic, tomatoes and ginger.  We didn't order naan, which is my favorite part of Shahenshah.  My friend already had the bread with the cheese bowl, and I didn't want to be tempted to eat the buttery naan, so we skipped it.  I have lots of leftover lentils and rice for lunch tomorrow!

Came home and filled out my application for grad school; also ordered my Bachelor's and Master's transcripts to be sent to the admissions department, and contacted my references to let them know that they're going to get recommendation forms.  I started to book a time to take the GRE, but at the last second I remembered that I should find out when I'm going to go audition first.  I wouldn't want to have to pay the $50 rescheduling fee for the test, if it turns out that February 7th is the only day that I can make the trip to VA for the audition.  I paid $5 for one of my transcripts!  Maybe it's not the $55 application fee or the $160 GRE fee, but the money leak has started, and I can't go back.  It's all happening this time around.

It had to end



Tom with his bowling buddy.

It's damn cold.  Maybe not as cold as a couple of weeks ago, but still damn cold.  That's all I'm going to say about that.

I went out for sushi tonight with my friend Tom.  We were going to go to a movie, but the times didn't line up, so we did what you do in Macon, GA when it's cold and dark outside: we went bowling.  I'm not a terrific bowler, by any means.  I was on a team for a couple of years in middle school, but I've only done it a handful of times since then.  My swirly blue bowling ball (with my name etched on it!) is now propped on an old bird bath stand in my parents' backyard--my dad calls it a Polish gazing ball.  In the summer he sticks corn cobs in the finger holes for the squirrels.

I like bowling--the game itself is okay, but the atmosphere in a bowling alley is fun.  I mean, it's noisy and everything, but there's something about bowling...every time I go, we bond with the people in the lanes near ours.  Everyone cheers for the little kid whose ball caroms off the bumpers fifty times before nudging the pins over.  Everyone laughs at the guy who drops his ball on the floor before he even gets to the foul line.  Everyone politely pretends it's normal to have a filthy, pink-suited stuffed mousie in your ball bag that you use to wipe the ball between frames.



Sashimi regular and Jurassic Fire roll from Taki on Zebulon.
Photo by Tom.

Tom is one of my No Dairy January minions, so sushi was a perfect idea.  We split an order of sashimi and got a roll from the special board above the sushi bar--I examined all the rolls carefully to be sure we ordered one with no cream cheese.  Sadly, either the board or the chef screwed up, because our roll had cream cheese on it.  I immediately called it "some kind of weird white fish" and we ate it.  Yes, we ate it.  Twenty-one dairy free days, and I lost it at a sushi restaurant?  Hmph.

After the bowling alley, I made Tom go to Krispy Kreme because the "Hot Doughnuts" beacon was on and Tom admitted he had never had one right off the conveyor.  We got coffee and hot glazed, and discussed whether or not the doughnuts had dairy.  I just checked krispykreme.com and, sure enough, they contain just about a whole cow: "milk, butter, yogurt, whey, nonfat milk and nonfat whey."  I'm not sorry.  I haven't had a Krispy Kreme in at least five years, and it will probably be another five before I eat one again.





Twenty-one

Overslept, so breakfast was a McDonald's coffee on the way to school.  Still having trouble falling asleep at night.  It was a good thing I stopped at McDonald's, because it gave me time to realize I'd forgotten my phone in the hotel room.  If I hadn't stopped, I'd've been 15 minutes up the highway before I noticed, without a lot of time to go back for it.

I teach back-to-back classes and lessons all day, grabbing a snack sometimes between students.  After my last student, I ate some edamame that I'd brought with me, then practiced for a while.  The storage closet where I teach doesn't sound that great, and the edamame wasn't really enough to get my brain in the right place, but I pushed through it and felt pretty good about that.  In college, I always had a hard time making myself work if I didn't feel like working.

Got home and ate tacos (need to use up these tortillas) followed by Rice Dream with peanut butter and a banana nut VitaTop muffin.  I'm so into this ice-cream-with-peanut-butter!  It's better than any commercial peanut butter ice cream.  I can't wait to try it with chocolate after my dairy ban is over.

Spent the rest of the evening chilling with the cats.  Tomorrow, I'm going out for dinner--Indian, I think--and filling out my grad school application.  And practicing, of course.

Away again



In the cemetery across the street from where I teach.

It felt weird to drive to the university in broad daylight.  For the past year, I've left home before it's light out in order to teach here.  Today I had time to get up, eat oatmeal with apples and raisins for breakfast, get ready, stop by the post office and THEN get on the road.  I didn't really eat lunch, just some dates and carrots in the car.  Taught some lessons, practiced, ate chili and a sandwich at Atlanta Bread, practiced some more, then came to my hotel room, where I am now hanging out and eating junk food.  It's non-dairy junk food, and it's even within WW points, but I don't really need to be eating it.

I'm starting the application process to go to grad school in the fall.  It's going to make a big mess of my life, but my life is pretty messy, anyway.  I'm scheduling my next four months in weekends: one weekend teaching band camp, one weekend for Albany Symphony, one for Valdosta Symphony, one weekend is my recital, one weekend is a conference in Chattanooga, one is a conference in Savannah, one is band championships in Grand Rapids, and now one will have to be a DMA audition in Virginia.  Two consecutive weekends will be spring break, and I might try to visit John in Texas if I have any money at all.

I'm barely keeping things together right now. 





Home for now

The NationsBank Building in Atlanta.  Apparently
 it's now "Bank of America Plaza"...ok.  Took the
picture while stuck in traffic, using the retro camera
app on my phone.

Had a decent band rehearsal last night--I mean, I played well last night.  The band was still having their first night back after a long break.  All the practicing and recital prep has brought my old chops back.  Maybe not my badass college chops, but I'm feeling pretty strong again. 

Worked today at the repair shop--spent about four hours washing, polishing, pricing and re-stocking trumpet mouthpieces.  I'm getting better at finding the prices, but that part takes forever.  I don't know much about trumpet mouthpieces and what they cost--I know what's about normal for a decent student mouthpiece, but there are a million different models, some of which are rare, some of which are just expensive to begin with.  I could spend hours looking them up.  I hate to ask the boss about every single one of them, but it would probably be faster and I could get around to doing other stuff for him.  As it is, I'm going to have to finish next time I go in.

I had to cut down to one day at the shop because of my teaching schedule.  I am going to the university on two days instead of one, and staying overnight in between.  That meant I had to switch my high school day to Tuesdays, which was one of my shop days.  Now I go to band practice Tuesday, stay at the shop and then work there Wednesday, but I have to go home Wednesday so I can get to the college on Thursday.  The shop is closed on Mondays, though I could probably work there anyway.  It's not like I do a lot of customer service, just inventory and website stuff.  I hate to make the drive another time, though, and I'm trying to stay at home more now that John's gone.  I don't like leaving the cats alone that much. 

Last night, I got to eat Purely Decadent coconut milk ice cream--the cookie dough flavor and also mint chip.  Today I had eggs and hash browns for breakfast, both cooked in coconut oil.  Lunch was a gigantic pile of vegetables: asparagus, brussels sprouts, spinach, broccoli and brown rice.  Amazing.  Lunch was late, so I didn't really eat dinner; I snacked on some "multigrain crisps"--they were basically rice cakes--with a blackberry pomegranate flavor.  Sounds weird, but they weren't bad.  I also had fresh dates and a few cashews, and my usual clementine, when I got home tonight.

Leaving tomorrow for the university, so I'll be eating out tomorrow night.  I don't anticipate a lot of problems with dairy, since I usually eat at Atlanta Bread Company or Subway when I'm down there.  There's an awesome little Indian restaurant in town, but it's not very convenient to campus, and I usually just do the soup/sandwich thing and buckle down to practicing.

I have a love/hate thing with my driving and staying away from home.  I like my routine--staying home, then staying in hotels (Priceline is my bitch) or with friends; I like the private time in the hotels and in my car; I usually work harder with less distraction when I'm away from home, and I can relax when I DO stay at home.  The little details are bothersome, though.  I would still rather be home than on the road, so I'm always trying to wrangle the schedule around and get extra days at home.  I don't like spending money on hotels, food or gas.  I don't like packing up my clothes every other day.  I always freak out about which horns I need on which days; I'm afraid of forgetting things.  I like staying in Atlanta because I get to see my friends, but I miss my husband and my cats. 

The gas is going to kill me.  My car is a 2008 and has about 135k on it--I get good gas mileage, but $3/gallon is $3/gallon.  I'm one of those green bastards who thinks that gasoline SHOULD be $5/gallon, and we should develop the technology and the public transportation to be able to live without gas.  I have to move someplace where I can work closer to home, or commute by public transit.  I've always wanted to live in a city where I could walk to work, and here I am driving 500+ miles a week.  Two years ago I was driving 1000 miles a week, so I guess I'm improving.  Sort of.

Day 18

Teaching went really well today.  It's been a year and a half and I'm finally really hitting my stride at this high school.  I got a private tuba student there today, and another possible student.  Too bad it's my last year there. 

I'm leaving for the city in a little while for band practice tonight and working in the shop tomorrow, so this will be the entry for tonight.  It's harder to avoid dairy when I'm away from home.  It seems like restaurants put cheese on everything!  Every sandwich has cheese, every pasta dish has cheese or a cream sauce; every salad has cheese; every soup has milk or cheese in it or a little dab of sour cream on top.  All breads are brushed with butter or served with butter, or they have cheese baked onto them.  All desserts come with ice cream.  Even vegetables are drizzled with butter, if they're not mixed into a cheesy casserole.  Why is dairy--and especially cheese--so necessary to every restaurant meal?

Don't get me wrong, I don't blame the restaurants.  I know they create the foods that we want.  The most popular foods in American restaurants are covered with cheese, filled with cream, and served with giant scoops of ice cream.  It's the same as the portion question: why are restaurant portions so huge?  Very few people can eat a 24 oz. steak with a baked potato, mountain of vegetables and unlimited bread, but nobody wants to be served a little tiny plate with a 3 oz. steak on it.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the usual dinner meet-up before rehearsal at Panera.  I have a gift card from my mom and dad.  :)

Rainy day (with photos)



My craft closet.  Note the plastic storage
drawers, boxes and tubs, the cardboard
boxes, and the gift bags.



Wow...all these freezing cold days in a row, then work, and then the temperature goes up and the sun comes out...and then it rains.  I was going to go to Andersonville today and take pictures.  Instead, I think I'll do the EXACT SAME THING I'VE BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS.

Which is sit in the house, practice my horns, watch Netflix, and sort out various containers and drawers around the house. 

The container thing is starting to become amusing.  I have a container addiction.  In terms of decoration, my house is full of little boxes, jars and cubbyholes where I can hide things.  Even my bedroom lamp has little drawers in its base, each one full of lip balms or jewelry that I took off before falling asleep.  The hidden things are sometimes cool--you'll open up an ornate little tin box and find chunks of pretty stone, bits of jewelry, or more little tin boxes.  Another time you might peek into a ceramic turtle shell and find a wad of cables from phone chargers, ear buds, and various other adapters.  It's a crapshoot, for you and me both.  What, you think I have any idea where I've hidden stuff?  I'm like a really stupid dog burying bones around the backyard, then being all surprised and excited when he stumbles across them later.



Four containers visible here: tiny vase from my
trip to Germany, prom candy jar, tin box full of
buttons, Turkish puzzle box full of whatever I put
in it before I forgot how to open it.



For storage, I tend to buy rubbermaid tubs in all sizes; I have a million little plastic containers in the kitchen, and larger ones in various closets that hold fabric, music, bottles of valve oil, bathroom supplies, expired painkillers, clothes that I suspect John won't miss--basically anything that needs storing.  It would be so organized, if only I were willing to go out and buy an actual organizing system.  I don't, though--that would be EXPENSIVE--I'm a cheapskate container addict.  If I see them on sale, I buy a few; they don't match the others, and their lids are not interchangeable.  It's not pretty.  But when everything is stuffed in a box and stashed in a closet, it doesn't matter. 



Laundry shelf.  Notice that I am using
old detergent caps to hold things.



So now it's time to go through these things.  Boxes have not been opened in years, and I am ruthlessly tossing crap or taking it to Goodwill so I don't have to move it somewhere else to sit in a closet for more years.  The result is that I'm condensing the contents of the boxes into fewer boxes, which is great.  I also have these newly-emptied containers to put different stuff in, which is also great.  It's a little ridiculous at the moment, however.  I have a growing stack of empty plastic boxes of all different sizes.  The boxes are filling up with smaller boxes, along with sewing kits, handbags, recipe files, pencil cases, lunchboxes--all these other little things that I was using to store smaller things. 

One other ridiculous result of my container problem is the entire cabinet full of LIDS in my kitchen.  Over time, I must have thrown away the containers, or sprouted seeds in them, or something.  I hate to throw the lids in the Warner Robins recycle bin (a.k.a. "the trash"), but that's the reason they've been sitting there for so long. 

  

 I haven't eaten more than a clementine today.  Food post later.

Four containers are visible in this photo: a tiny glass
bottle from who knows where; a cardboard gift box with
a Pooh design;a coffee mug signed by all my cabinmates at
Interlochen; a nylon mouthpiece bag.  Notice that I'm using
two of the mouthpieces in the photo to hold up accessories.

This was originally a key rack, I guess. 

I probably found it at Goodwill.  I like

the hooks for jewelry, and the shelves

for--what else?--little boxes.

Still going





I'm sitting here with decent topics to write about, but I'm crampy and totally unmotivated.  Going to go read, get some sleep, and write a decent entry tomorrow.  I swear.  Lunch was leftovers, dinner was...hell, what did I eat?  Oh yeah--baked potato with salt, pepper, and a little margarine.  Big fun.  I did discover that my favorite Biscoff cookies don't have dairy--that was a good thing.  That's about it.

Photo stolen from www.biscoff.com.



Day 15



Is it strawberry ice cream?  Bubble gum?  No! 
 It's mechanically-separated chicken!  Photo
borrowed from www.fooducate.com/blog.



Hey, halfway there.  Results?  Well, my sinuses seem clearer and head doesn't ache as much.  I was on break for most of these last two weeks, though.  Thursday I taught all day, and Friday I got back on the road.  I noticed that my neck and shoulders started to hurt again, and that led to a headache.  Maybe dairy isn't my problem...maybe it's my car.  Maybe my Scion is allergic to dairy.

I have lost weight.  I know it's because I've been back on weight watchers, but it's a lot easier to do weight watchers when dairy isn't even an option.  Seriously, I have trouble using all the points.

Today I spent some time in the frozen food aisle, looking for entrees without dairy.  I ended up with a teriyaki chicken something-or-other.  Weird how many processed foods contain some kind of whey or other dairy, even if the food in the box isn't dairy at all.  Turkey with dressing and apples--why does it need dairy? 

I've been eating a ton of chicken lately.  Chicken is one of my least favorite things to think about.  I have thought of giving it up--I would be one of the only people who eats red meat but not chicken, I bet.  I spend a lot of time driving on I-75, and I'm constantly passing chicken trucks.  It's a big thing in Georgia.  Hundreds of chickens squeezed into tiny little cages...ugh.  I try to eat organic and free-range food as much as possible, but it's expensive and I'm not exactly living in a Whole Foods neighborhood.

Dinner was tortillas filled with my bean porridge and spinach.  When I was younger, I thought it was pronounced "spinage."  I still catch myself saying "spinage" sometimes, but I'm self-conscious about saying "spinitch," like that way might be wrong.

Back to "normal"

Friday's a long day.  I leave the house before 7, drive two hours, arrive at school, prepare materials, teach for about 8-9 hours without a break, practice--if I still have energy left--and drive 2 hours home.  Today was a short day, because I cancelled most of my students.  They admitted they hadn't practiced since our last lessons in December, so I made a "do you really think you should be in this program?" speech during my studio class and sent them away.  I'm sure they were devastated.

Depending on how many students I have, I may end up driving down on Thursdays and staying over, which would make both days much shorter.  I'm really torn about that--I hate staying down there, but it's nice not to have to get up at 6 and run all day.  Right now a couple of my hours are up in the air.  I hope to know what's going on by next week.

Interesting news: when they added my recital to the official department calendar, they forgot to change "student" to "faculty," so it looks like there's a girl with my exact name giving her senior euphonium recital on the exact same day as my recital.

I ate a wheat round with peanut butter on the way to school, snacked on clementines, and ate more chicken taco leftovers when I got home.  Last night I discovered that adding a tablespoon of peanut butter to my non-dairy ice cream is AWESOME, so I did that again tonight.  I probably mentioned that last night, but I was tired then, and I'm tired now, so I forget.

I took a picture of my cat trying to eat a ribbon.  Then I decided I've posted a lot of cat photos lately, so I left it off.  I'm feeling pretty uninspired tonight.  I'm off tomorrow; the band camp I was supposed to teach has been cancelled because of the weather.  I'll try to be interesting tomorrow. 

Day 13

It's been a long day, and tomorrow's another, so here's a quick update.  I taught all day, dealt with band stuff and started sorting through some of the fabric that has collected in the corners of my house for the last 8 years.  Lunch and dinner were both leftovers, the bean soup and the tacos that I made earlier this week.

I threw away Fleck's favorite box.  He loves this old box that my isotoner pillow came in, years ago.  I had stored some scrap fabric in the box, and then Fleck sat on it all the time until it caved in the middle.  You can barely see the corner of it in that photo--under the plaid blanket.  He loves the bean bag chair, too.  And the blankets.  And the slidey satin comforter that we keep on the bed in the winter.  And the s'mores chair, my ugly brown, tan and cream-colored striped chair (which also will not survive the next move...don't tell Fleck).  And the fugly recliner...yet another piece of furniture that will not see another Caputo-Jones household.  Above all, Fleck loves to sit on me--any part of me that is horizontal, including the tops of my feet, if I'm standing.  He has all of these places to sit, so I decided to toss the box.  Now he's sitting in the fugly chair, looking at me sadly, as if he was going to go sit in that stupid box RIGHT NOW, but it's out in the trash.  For pete's sake.

Frustration




Confucius say: he who eat shit feel like shit later.



Spent most of the day shuffling emails back and forth...band stuff, school stuff.  Confirmed that at least three of my students didn't even take their instruments home over the break, and of the rest of them, only one did any meaningful practicing.  I cancelled their lessons for this week and am only teaching the one who practiced, along with two new students.  I don't need to go over the same assignments that I gave them a month ago.

I'm going to have too many students to teach in one day.  Not quite enough to make it worth staying overnight (school is 2 hours away), but too many for one day.  I'll have to make it work.  Money concerns me, but I'll get lots of practicing done.

Other than being pissy, I ventured out in the cold, sunny weather to pay my water bill and get my mail.  I took down my Christmas tree, finally, but couldn't fit it into the box that I set aside for it (the cardboard box was ruined because somebody left it outside when we went to Texas for five days).  I'll have to get a larger storage box tomorrow.

All the frustration and boredom has made me anxious about food.  I don't WANT to eat the lentils, rice, spinach and other things with which I'm usually content.  I want parmesan cheese.  I want pizza!  I'm more than a third of the way through No Dairy January, and I'm not going to screw it up, but I'm annoyed.  I did something horrible tonight--I followed a craving right into chicken nuggets and french fries.  No discernible dairy, but also no nutritional value and probably no naturally-occurring food substances.  I usually steer clear of fast food; living on the road like I do, it's sometimes unavoidable, but I do avoid it when I can.  One way to avoid eating shit is not to let myself get too hungry, and I did let myself, today.  I was also angry (see above) and lonely (stuck in the house) and...okay, I'm not tired, but anyone who's visited a 12-step program knows where I'm going with this.  I HALTed myself into eating shit. 

And believe me, I was sorry.  Less than 2 hours later.  Ugh...won't be doing that again soon.

Another entry

I made awesome dinner tonight!  Chicken, rice and onions simmered in salsa verde, with whole wheat tortillas and refried beans.  In other news, I'm eating a lot of peanut butter.  I found an awesome natural peanut butter--generic, so I could afford it, even--and I can't stop eating it.  I had some on a toasted wheat round for lunch, along with an apple that also had peanut butter on it.  Watching TV tonight, since the cats were keeping my legs warm and I couldn't POSSIBLY do anything else, I ate another wheat round with peanut butter, and the very last of the Australian black licorice that a friend gave me for Christmas. 

I keep forgetting to mention that last week, the first week of No Dairy January, I lost three pounds.

Ah.  Anything else?  Right, my mood has been pretty blah.  The weather has kept me home since Saturday, and the days seem long and dark.  Other than cooking and practicing my horns, I haven't done much but watch TV and read.  I'm bored.  And annoyed--easily annoyed.  Right now I'm annoyed with my brass band for being wishy-washy about going to the national championships this year.  There's a few people in the band who started a movement last year...I know their intentions were...well, they wanted to improve the band.  They just wanted to do it by staging a coup and kicking people out.  That didn't happen, but the overall effect has put a bad taste in people's mouths and morale is pretty low.  This is my last season with the band, and we barely have any concerts scheduled. 

If we don't go to the championships, then, frankly, I have a lot of things on my plate right now, and I'm so tired of fighting.  I feel like quitting early.  I know I WON'T, but I want to.  My own closest friends are battling--not over whether to GO to the contest, but over whether we should have decided earlier.  I went to sleep last night after listening to one of them rant about it, and woke up to ranting from the other one.  The two of them are on the same side of the issue, but they still find reasons to fight about it, and this is how our board meetings have gone for the last three months.  I'm tired of it.

I'm also annoyed by my students.  Facebook is one of the best and one of the worst things ever to come along, in terms of keeping an eye on my students.  On the one hand, I know what they're doing, or at least what they say they're doing, instead of practicing.  On the other hand, this is information that I sometimes would rather not have.  I saw a lovely post from one of them this afternoon, saying how he was getting reacquainted with his euphonium today.  We have a lesson on Friday--our first in several months.  How is that worth my time?  I've picked up more students this term, and I might have to go back to a two-day schedule at the university--all so they can NOT TOUCH their instruments for months at a time? 

Damn this weather.  I don't usually get this frustrated until the end of the semester.

Premature entry

**Language alert**

It's not a great picture, but you can see my two fat, pampered cats, along with
Lily's little scratching throne, their water bubbler, and a green catnip toy. 
Spoiled?  You decide.

It's not even noon--I haven't even eaten anything today--but I feel like writing.  Been cooped up here for a few days now, I'm running out of exciting things to do.

Woke up at 6:30 this morning to the sound of the dog next door.  Barking.  We live in a "condo"--a.k.a. a townhouse--with a neighbor on each side.  4-5 years ago, the next door neighbors got a puppy.  Up till that point, we liked them fine.  Even after the puppy, I liked them.  I could hear him yapping away, entertaining himself during the day when they were at work.  It was obvious that they kept him in the sunroom, which has a linoleum floor, so...very sensible.  Unfortunately, their sunroom is right next to my bedroom.  To let them know I could hear, I left a little Christmas gift of puppy treats and a chew toy at their door.  I chatted with them once or twice about their puppy, which had been a gift (first warning sign).  I assured the woman that he's just a baby, and he'll grow out of all that noise. 

And he did--but she didn't.  Several times a day for the last however many years, she takes that dog out into the back yard, which we share, and screams at him to do his business.  She screams in an ultra-frustrated twangy accent, which makes her sound like a total redneck.  She's out there with a full-grown mutt--looks like something between a lab and a German shepherd--yelling, "Just GO!  Just GO, you fuckin dog, I'm gonna fuckin KEEL YOU, god DAMMIT!"  The mutt is on a ten-foot leash, and she runs him around in circles for about three minutes or until he poops, whichever is first.  It's the only time he ever goes out of the house.

Over time, she stopped making eye contact when we meet in front of the house.  Her husband still says hey, but he's also much more patient when he takes the dog outside. 

When the weather's mild, I open the bedroom windows so the cats can smell the outside, which means the dog can see them through the screens.  He goes apeshit, naturally.  More disturbingly, John was out at the grill one time when the dog came out to run in his circles.  The dog lunged on his leash, dragging his owner while she screamed obscenities at him.  John understands dogs, very well, and he understood that dog was not joking around.  He was pulling his owner right across the yard, and if he got to John, he would hurt him.  John went in the house.

So, this morning, the dog was bark, bark, bark, bark, barking at 6:30 am.  I managed to get back to sleep with a pillow mashed over my head.  Two hours later, momma's home and whatever he was barking about, she is PISSED.  Screaming, cussing, slamming stuff around--I mean, she's more pissed than usual, and she's always pissed at the dog.  No going back to sleep this time.

I have debated calling the cops a few times.  I think we'd all be relieved.  They never wanted the dog, and they're not treating him well.  He's not trained, might not even be housebroken.  I never have called, for a couple of reasons.  One: I kind of like my neighbors, or I did before they got the dog.  Two: THEY called the cops once on the kids who lived on the other side of them, but the cops came to our door instead and immediately told us who had "reported us" for a domestic disturbance.  I don't want the police to tell them that I was the one who reported them--and if I'm that self-conscious about it, then I don't feel badly enough about the dog's treatment yet. 

Three, and this is what I repeat to myself every time I hear her cussing: the dog is still better off here than he would be at the shelter.  A dog like that is never going to get adopted, except maybe for dogfighting.  He would be put down within two weeks.  Someone comes home from work several times a day to take him out, so they must be feeding him.  I don't hear or see them hit him, ever--not saying they don't, but I haven't heard it.  Maybe he doesn't have a million toys or get spoiled the way my cats do--the way my dog would, if I had a dog--lots of dogs aren't spoiled.  So I don't call the police, because I know better.  I hope the people who move here after me are tolerant, too.

And I hope they don't have kids.  If kids live here, they're going to pick up some pretty nasty words.

Iced in, for real



It only looks like snow--it's ice. 1/10/11

It sleeted last night, stayed right at 32 degrees all day, and re-sleeted.  School's out again, brass band rehearsal is cancelled, and I have another two days off.  If we had band tomorrow night, I'd drive to Atlanta tomorrow, work for the afternoon, stay over, and work Wednesday before coming home; now I'll probably just wait till next week. 

I overfed the cats last night to keep them from waking me this morning.  Backfired: I slept till noon.  There wasn't much to do today, anyway.  I made soup, which ended up being some kind of bean porridge, and walked to the grocery store when I ran out of bread.  Practiced for a couple of hours and decided on a program for my recital.  Started watching "DeLovely," the Cole Porter movie.  Cleaned up the mess from making candles in my kitchen yesterday.  It was so nasty outside that I even got out my ridiculous little coffee pot and made coffee, which I drank with a little almond milk.  Lunch was blue cabbage (blaukraut), edamame and toasted cinnamon bread with peanut butter. 

Dinner consisted entirely of The Porridge.  It was going to be lentil soup, but first off I discovered I'd forgotten to buy normal lentils, which I almost always keep in my cabinet.  I had a package of mini lentils, so I dumped a bunch of those and half a bag of dried kidney beans into a pot with vegetable stock.  Added some onion and tomato that I needed to get rid of, some garlic, a potato, and some spices that I want to use up.  It's all about using stuff up now.  I put in some cut up chicken breast that I had in the freezer.  Toward the end, I dumped in some of those little pasta stars that you're supposed to put in soup, because what else am I going to do with them?  I have a huge bag of these things, so I think I'm going to dump them into everything I make for a while.  Maybe I'll cook them and put vegetables or lentils on them, like rice. 



1/10/11



Spices that I dumped in included paprika, celery seed, cumin, garlic powder (yes, on top of fresh garlic), chili powder, red pepper.  Maybe some others, I forget.  With the exception of the cumin and chili powder, I hardly use any of that stuff.  I *love* cumin.  The rest of it just needs to get out of here.

I added water more than once, but I like my soups thick, and this one definitely turned out thick.  I have a ton of it, too.  I was going to take some to brass band to give to friends, but I guess I'll be eating it for the rest of the week, instead.  It would be fabulous with parmesan cheese.  :P

 

Going to eat some bread with peanut butter, finish this movie and try to get to bed early.  I'm teaching Thursday, Friday and Saturday, assuming the weather cleans up its act, and I don't want to be miserable when I have to get up at 5:30.

Snowed In! jk




No snow.  1/9/11



Winter storms in middle Georgia are usually a letdown.  Someone predicts snow, school gets cancelled, everyone raids the grocery store, then half an inch of snow arrives and turns the dirt to mud.  Last year we did get a sizable storm and I missed it--I was further south in Valdosta, got stuck there overnight, and saw about 20 minutes' worth of fat, wet snowflakes arrive and turn the dirt to mud.  I was pissed that I had to buy a sweatshirt at Old Navy so I wouldn't freeze in my hotel room overnight.  Getting stranded turned out not to be such a bad thing--partly because I drove home the next day and saw at least a dozen tire tracks veering off of I-75 into the cotton fields.  Partly because that sweatshirt is now one of my favorite articles of clothing.



So, a few days ago they started saying Atlanta was going to get snow Sunday-Tuesday.  No biggie, we don't get the kind of weather that Atlanta gets.  Yesterday the prediction expanded to include middle Georgia--less than one inch of snow, possibly mixed with rain, sleet or freezing rain.  Today the hype built and built until school was cancelled, every college and public building is closed tomorrow, and the grocery store is completely emptied of bread, milk and eggs.  I mean, it probably is.  Last night I got a bag of cat food on the way home so I wouldn't have to go to the store today.  It's not about the weather--I grew up in Michigan, for pete's sake; we used to do donuts in the icy parking lot after marching band practice in OCTOBER.  Sometimes.  No, I stock up before a storm because I know all the snowfearing citizens of middle GA will raid the stores and there won't BE any food for a few days.  And you know what?  Now that I've been here for 12 years, I think most everyone is doing it for the same reason I am.  We create this crisis.

My kitchen is stocked well enough, anyway.  I have oatmeal, and apples, strawberries and dried fruit to mix in it.  I have eggs, bread, almond milk and peanut butter.  I just bought two packages of whole wheat pasta, on sale, and I even still have sauce to put on it.  Edamame, spinach, peas and corn in the freezer.  I even have 8 or 10 clementines, non-dairy ice cream (So Delicious Neapolitan), and black licorice.  All this on top of the usual canned goods, rice, lentils, dried beans, pickles and cornbread mixes that live in my cabinets...hell, it'd be great to get a nice big storm so I don't have the temptation to go out.  I'm trying to use this stuff up before I move, later this year. 

It is getting damn cold, I admit.  I try to keep the heat at 60 most of the time, but if it gets too cold in here, I turn it up to 65.  Last night I wore light pajamas and woke up cold a few times.  Tonight I'll wear warmer ones.  I put two heating pads under the blankets before I brush my teeth, so it's usually warm and cozy when I crawl in bed.  I came out of the bathroom last night and my heating pads were in place, but there was a fat cat planted on each one.  Those bastards wouldn't move, either.  I had to squeeze in and nudge them around till I could get my feet on a warm place.

Know what?  About five minutes ago I heard a big whoosh of wind outside, and now it's sleeting.  It's such a spooky sound.  Like plastic silverware rattling in the tree branches.

Eight




I-75 North near Forsyth, GA, 1-7-11



From talking to NDJ participants, it sounds like the hardest part of not eating dairy is remembering not to eat dairy.  We eat on autopilot--at least, I do.  Yesterday, I started to make pasta for lunch and realized after the water was boiling that I can't put Parmesan cheese on it.  I had to scramble to figure out what else I could put on plain pasta.  Luckily, I had an open jar of marinara in the fridge.  It seems natural to pick up a piece of cornbread and put butter on it, or to stumble to the kitchen in the morning and pour milk on bran flakes.  Okay, that one doesn't seem that natural to me, since I haven't poured cow's milk on my cereal in at least 5 years, but you know what I'm saying.

It makes me think about what I'm eating while I'm eating it.  Rather than just grab something in the kitchen and go eat while reading a book, I have to think first about what this food is, what it contains, and whether I really feel like eating it. 

I like the concept of mindful eating, paying attention to the food and the experience of eating food, instead of TV or a book.  I don't like having to do it, though.  I end up thinking about stuff while I'm eating, and when I start thinking, I want to do something or write things down; it's an ADD trait that took me years to accept.  For example, I'll remember something I forgot to do earlier, like take out the trash, and I'll want to go do it before I forget.  Or I'll remember something I want to tell someone, so I call them.  Or I suddenly remember that I'm teaching at a band camp on January 22, and I better write it in my planner right now.  If I'm not remembering something that I forgot to do, I either stress out about something (often it's something I forgot to do earlier), or get bored; my brain gets restless, and I want to read a book or check my Facebook.

I feel like I'm getting better at it, though.  I ate in a restaurant tonight and had to ask the server whether certain dishes had dairy products in them.  I'm not the type to do that very often, so it felt weird, but it's been 8 days and I feel pretty good, so I don't want to screw it up.

In other news, my college teaching starts up again next week.  My contract for the semester is jacked, because my students didn't all register when they were supposed to.  That means my contract was written for a smaller number of students than I actually have, which means...wait for it...less $$.  I'm hoping that I can have it adjusted right away, because the payroll department has deadlines.  If my contract isn't in by a certain time, sometimes I have to wait a month before I start getting paid.  It sucks to have to sign a new contract every semester.  Someday my prince full-time tenure track job will come....

Parmesan, How I Love Thee




I did not take this photo; I got it free here:
 www.thepublicdomainimages.com

I don't remember being a picky eater as a kid.  It's possible that I didn't have to be picky because my dad was picky.  He didn't like vegetables, grainy breads, rare meats, Chinese food or anything, you know, interesting.  Really, he ate like a little kid--left to his own devices, he'd eat McDonald's for lunch and cereal for dinner.  My mom--a 4-H champion cook--gave up trying to change his mind and just made the usual stuff: meat loaf, hamburgers, sloppy joes, cabbage rolls, spaghetti . . . there was variety, but a lot of the dad-approved meals boiled down to some kind of ground beef with some kind of sauce on it, accompanied by some kind of potatoes and ALWAYS white bread.

During tax season when Dad was working late, or on his poker, bowling or golf nights, Mom would cook other things or bring home Chinese food, or real Mexican food from the Sunnyside Cafe.  There weren't too many other types of food in southeast Michigan in the 80s.  One time she made liver (from a naughty runaway cow named Big Bertha, courtesy of her family farm in Indiana), and I liked it.  Weird, I know. 

Interestingly, my dad stopped objecting to some of his hated foods as he got older.  He eats rice and Chinese now, and he learned to bake Ukrainian Christmas cookies.  His steaks still have to be charred and covered with A-1 sauce, but I've seen him eat veggies and chicken breasts.  My mom secretly thinks that his own mother charred and overcooked everything that she ever cooked him when he was a kid--my grandmother was 1st generation Ukrainian, living in Pittsburgh when it was still a grotty steel town, so that's how food was supposed to be, right? 

So my brother and I weren't really challenged to eat a lot of veggies or unusual stuff.  I had certain foods that I didn't like at home, but if I went to someone else's house I'd eat them to be polite.  I didn't like rice (because of the texture) and I didn't like Swiss cheese, American cheese or Velveeta; I hated ketchup and mayonnaise, although the classic ketchup-and-mayo combo didn't bother me.  I passionately hated bologna.  I know--bologna, Velveeta and ketchup made up most of the diet of midwestern kids my age, but I really, really hated bologna. 

One time I was at a babysitter's house for a half-day from school, along with a whole bunch of other kids whose parents had to work.  The sitter made us all bologna sandwiches on white bread with mayo.  We were all eating outside on the swingset and I couldn't stand to eat mine, so the sitter's own kid told me to drop it in the dirt, and I wouldn't have to eat it.  I did, and went inside with the dirty sandwich, calmly telling the babysitter it was ok and I just needed to throw away this sandwich and get my after-lunch popsicle.  I ended up with a new sandwich.  I think she left the mayo off for me, though.  And she knew her kid too well-- she knew exactly how that sandwich got dirty.

I now love rice, I like mayo; everything else on that list I tolerate--except bologna.  The thought of it still makes me grimace.

Then there's mac-and-cheese.  As a kid, I didn't like macaroni and cheese.  Velveeta, remember?  My mom always made me macaroni with "sprinkle cheese"--Parmesan.  It was my number-one comfort food, and still is.  When I'd go to someone's house and their mom would make Kraft dinner, I would patiently explain (over my dish of already-prepared neon orange noodles) that MY mom always just put sprinkle cheese on macaroni.  I can't say for certain, but I'm pretty sure my friends' moms didn't like me very much. 

When I learned to cook lunch for myself, macaroni with Parmesan was right below peanut-butter-and-jelly.  In college I discovered ramen noodles, which taste great with Parmesan, and couscous, which not only tastes great but LOOKS LIKE Parmesan.  I also grudgingly tried, and liked, Kraft dinner.  My roommates and I turned vegetarian and basically lived on steamed rice, lentils (also good with Parmesan), mac-and-cheese, and omelets.  Sometimes we put the macaroni in the omelets.  One thing my roommate insisted on was getting fresh Parmesan, which was NOT the type we had in my house, of course.  Then I took to eating slices of Parmesan by itself.  Really. 

I came around eventually and don't eat Kraft dinner anymore, but I have discovered real mac-and-cheese, as you may have gathered.  I still put Parmesan on everything, though.  John jokes that, for me, pasta is just a delivery system for the Parmesan.  At home, the only reason I put sauce on spaghetti is to make the Parmesan stick to the noodles.  Holy crap, I just realized that while I was writing this entry, I thought mac-and-parm would be a great lunch and I got up to put water on the stove, without even thinking.

Anyway, I'm about to go to a friend's house for dinner.  I'm cooking, in honor of NDJ: spaghetti with marinara sauce, vegetables, garlic bread made without butter, and maybe some Italian sausage to make up for the lack of dairy.  There will be no Parmesan cheese.  I swear.